Bow Out
by aapenname
Summary: Vigilantism is a young man's game. Eventually, Oliver will have to bow out. But will William be ready to get his bow out? Can he learn from his father's mistakes?
1. Chapter 1

_A/N:_ Although this story can be read as a stand alone, it takes place in my Life After Death 'verse.

 _February 2025_

As a very small child, one of William's favorite picture books had been _If You Give a Mouse a Cookie._ One of the fading memories he still had of his mother was her reading the story to him. He would giggle hysterically every time she would turn the page and dramatically announce the next thing the mouse wanted, her eyes dancing with excitement as though she hadn't read the same story dozens of nights in a row. It had tickled William to see the requests getting bigger and bigger, more and more outlandish, as the mouse tried to see how far he could push and still get what he wanted. As William got older, he realized the story actually probably taught kids the wrong lesson, essentially saying that the way to get a big thing that you wanted was to ask a never-ending series of small, seemingly unimportant requests. Nevertheless, he'd never forgotten the story or its questionable moral.

That was probably how he ended up at the kitchen table, stuck in a staring contest with his dad.

"Absolutely not," Oliver said, his voice steady, belying the 'oh hell no' Will knew Oliver really wanted to yell. His dad had this odd way of looking almost Zen on the outside even as he stood his ground like a boulder being challenged by an ant. It probably came from so many years as both the above-board mayor of the city and underground vigilante protector of the same.

"I'm not asking you to let me go toe to toe with a meta," Will said carefully, trying to figure out how to best phrase his request. He'd tried to pick the best time, even making chili using his dad's favorite recipe, to put him in a better mood. Will was already using his best _please-please-please_ voice which usually broke down his dad's defenses, but so far it didn't seem to be working. But this was far bigger than wanting to stay out half an hour past curfew.

"I just want to shadow you a few times. See how you do what you do. You won't even know I'm there."

Oliver barked out a laugh, the first time his calm, neutral face had shifted since this argument started. "Right. I won't be freakishly aware of my only child mere feet away from me as I'm trying to take down a bad guy who, by the way, would _love_ to hurt the person that means the most to me."

"I can stay on the roof tops," Will offered.

"At the risk of sounding like a huge hypocrite, being on rooftops without permission is trespassing if you get caught." Oliver held out a hand to stop William from interjecting. "Furthermore, even if I can't see you, I know you're there and I'd be worried the whole time. Being that distracted is dangerous. Plus, I have no way of watching your back if we're not in the same place and being kidnapped twice in one lifetime is more than enough."

William slumped in his chair. _Damn you and your reasonable logic._ Will bit his lip, his temper starting to flare a little.

"I know you want to keep me safe, and I really appreciate it, but you can't keep me in bubble wrap forever. I'm not a kid anymore."

Oliver's eyebrows went up as he sat back and uncrossed his arms. A sad smile tugged at his lips. "Actually, I have it on good authority that you are. At least for a little bit longer. Rhymes with beagle diner?"

William felt the tingly burn as a blush stole across his cheeks and up his ears. "I'll only be a _legal minor_ for a few more months. Plus, I'll be done with school right after your birthday!"

Oliver scoffed and closed his eyes for a moment, perhaps a second's prayer for patience, before looking at Will, head tilted questioningly. "And your big over-the-hill present for me is going to be you risking your life for no reason?"

Sarcasm dripped so heavily from the words, Will almost expected to see a puddle on the floor.

The fact that Oliver was getting older made it even _more_ important that Will start learning the ropes. Oliver would be turning 40 on his next birthday. Tyler, Will's girlfriend, always joked that Oliver had the anti-dad bod. Will had teased her for even looking at his dad that way and pointed out that his dad was starting to get gray hairs.

 _He's going to be a silver fox,_ Tyler insisted. _If I ever leave you for a more 'mature' model, it's going to be for your rich and powerful and hot-for-an-old-guy dad._

A similar comment about her mom had earned Will an outraged gasp and a sharp pinch to his side.

The fact remained, Oliver wouldn't be able to guard Star City forever. At least not as the guy in the hood. Eventually, his reflexes would slow and almost two decades of death-defying feats would catch up with him. William already knew for a fact that Oliver had started wearing knee braces under his suit almost three years ago. When the time came for Oliver to put down his bow, William wanted to be ready to pick it up.

"What if I promise not to get hurt? I've been training with you for years."

"Just like I told you eight years ago, that's not a promise you can make," Oliver reminded him. "What I do is dangerous. And your training is self-defense. When I go out, I'm working on the offense."

"So teach me!" Will nearly yelled in frustration.

Oliver did not match him, remaining as coolly calm as ever. "No."

"I could get someone else to train me," William muttered as he picked at the table mat in front of him. He looked up when the air in the room went still. Oliver's eye glittered with a calm fury William had never had directed at him.

"Barring the fact that you don't actually _know_ any vigilantes, who do you think is going to cross both the Green Arrow _and_ the Director of ARGUS if we put out the word that you're _persona non-grata_?"

"That's not fair!"

Oliver shrugged. "Life's not fair. And the fact that you're using 'that's not fair' just like when you were ten does nothing to convince me that you should be out there."

Will huffed out a breath, nearly shaking with frustration. All he wanted to do was help people. Like his dad did, day and night. He drew in a few breaths and forced his heart to slow from its jack rabbit pace.

"What would I have to do to convince you that I'm serious?"

Oliver studied him for a long while before he sighed and wiped a hand over his face. "Go to school. You have chances most people would _kill_ for. I can send you anywhere in the country. Get a degree. And then, _if_ you still want this… I'll train you myself."

Will stopped, blinking a few times. "But that's at least four _years_."

"That's my condition. Most of those heroes you like so much? The Flash, Kid Flash, The Atom, Vibe, Firestorm? They all went to college. Most of my old team did, too. Felicity, Curtis, Laurel, Dinah. _Me._ " Oliver counted them off on his fingers before looking at Will. "As much as I would love to say 'no, never' I can see this is important to you. You've got a lot of me in you, so I know 'no' is a dare. I just want you to have _options_. I want you to be able do this because you _want_ to, not because you have no other skills."

William nodded slowly and Oliver stood, gathering their dishes and taking them to the sink to wash.

His dad probably thought four years of higher education would change his mind, send him in another direction. But Oliver was wrong. William would go. And learn. Use the time to build his skills. A cover identity. Then he could become someone else. Something else.


	2. Chapter 2

"I love that you like to be all tough-guy _grr_ , but I don't understand why you push yourself so hard." Tyler tisked as she ran her fingertips lightly over the purpling bruises that colored Will's skin just under his ribs.

Tyler had been waiting for him when he'd gotten home, hoping to drag him out for dinner and a movie, but had gone into Florence Nightingale mode when she'd seen his flushed face and how much he was favoring his left side, which was how they'd ended up on his bed with Will in nothing but his shorts and Tyler playing a much less fun version of doctor.

They lay on his bed in his dorm room. Will had eventually chosen Weisinger-Papp University. An hour's drive away from Star City, it put Will just outside of his dad's sphere of influence but at the epicenter of Star City, Central City, and Coast City. Tyler and Will spent most of their time together in his room. His dad had sprung for a private room and it afforded them far more privacy than the suite Tyler shared with three other girls.

Will hissed as Tyler pressed the cold compress to his blood-hot skin. "I like the challenge."

"I know, I know. You're such an adrenaline junkie. Rock wall climbing, parkour, Krav Maga. It's like you love the danger." She lifted the ice pack and pressed a light kiss to the mottling.

Will hummed in appreciation. "It feels better already."

Tyler's kisses worked their way up his body until they reached his chin. She knelt up on the bed and swung a leg over his waist, careful not to jostle his side. Running her hands up his flat stomach to his chest, she gave a murmur of approval. Her hands continued sliding down his arms to wave their fingers together. Will pulled their entwined hands up to his mouth and pressed a kiss against her knuckles.

"I'm not looking for danger," he said. "I just like pushing my body, seeing what it can do."

Tyler smiled and loosed her hands to pull her shirt up and off. "Now _that_ I can understand."

Later, feeling lazy and boneless, Will watched as Tyler stood on the side of the bed, dressing.

"Give me a minute to get the feelings back in my legs and I'll walk you home."

"No need. I'm just a few buildings down," Tyler said as she slid her feet into her shoes.

Will sat up, careful protecting his ribs. "Well, it's still night time."

"Yeah, but I got my pepper spray. Besides, if I get in real trouble there's some nut running around like Kung Fu Panda meets Casey Jones." She laughed. "Maybe he'll save me."

Will stared at her dumbly for a split second before schooling his features into an incredulous smile. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," Tyler said as she twisted her hair into a bun and clipped it back. "My roommates and I can't decide if it's cool, sad, hilarious, or pathetic. But Payton's pretty pumped. She wrote an article about it and the Star City Sentinel picked it up."

William's stomach sank. _Oh no._ "So the Sentinel is going to run it?"

Tyler nodded and flopped on the edge of the bed. "Yep. I think they're jealous because the Central City Citizen has so many more heroes and metas to report on, so they keep their ear to the ground looking for any new heroes that they can scoop."

"What do you think about this guy or whoever?" Will asked.

She shrugged. "Doesn't matter to me. I can take care of myself. And if I can't, I've got you as back up." She leaned over with a grin and smacked a kiss on his lips. "I love you, William David."

He smiled back. "Not as much as I love you, Tyler Rose."

Will watched as she grabbed her backpack and keys and bounced out of the door. As soon as it latched behind her, Will flopped back on the bed, groaning when his bruises protested the force.

Star City Sentinel.

Well, shit.

Will watched as his phone lit up and buzzed.

 _Dad calling_

For the third time today.

Will shifted his gaze back to his laptop to the story he could almost quote from memory. He squinted at it, tilting his head from side to side. His dad couldn't _prove_ it was him.

Tyler said Payton was ecstatic. The story was so popular she'd even heard from Iris West-Allen who covered the Flash in Central City.

William sighed and closed his computer just as his phone started to buzzed again. He tapped the screen, finally accepting the call. His dad was definitely _not_ a 'no news is good news' type of guy.

"Hey, Dad."

"Hey, buddy."

Will squeezed his eyes closed. Once, back when he was having a really hard time learning to control a car to drive, scaring the piss out of both himself and his dad, Will had pointed out that Oliver only called him 'buddy' when he was really struggling to keep his cool. Definitely not a good sign.

"How are things on campus?" Oliver asked.

"Good. Fun. Doing the higher learning thing."

Oliver hummed in vague agreement. "So… nothing _new_ going on with you that I might need to know about?"

"Umm… Tyler and I are thinking about moving in together," William blurted out in a moment of panic. They'd actually considered no such thing. Tyler's parents were observant Catholics and would never allow such a thing. Tyler's dad would have a coronary if he knew what they were already up to.

The line was silent and Will could almost feel his dad resisting the temptation to be sidetracked by his announcement.

"Not gonna happen," Oliver snapped. "Also, not what I meant."

"Oh."

Will was tempted to argue, but thought better of pushing. His dad was not above calling a bluff and contacting Tyler's parents to have them talk to Tyler who would then take her wrath out on Will for dragging her into the cover story she hadn't even known he needed.

"Yeah, I read a pretty interesting article day. About your campus."

"Oh?"

"Yep. About a vigilante-type on _your_ campus, beating up the bad guys and keeping everybody safe."

Will hesitated. "That's a good thing, right?"

"I dunno. Sounds pretty dangerous. His parents probably sent him there to get an education, safe and sound. Those poor people."

"So I'm just supposed to what? Ignore people getting hurt when I could stop it? Let women get assaulted on campus. I mean, what if one of those guys decides to go after Tyler or her friends. I can't just sit by and let that happen."

Will's mouth snapped closed with a pop. _Shit._

He waited for his dad to reply. He heard a deep breath and could almost feel the stoic glare through the line.

"I appreciate your concern for Tyler and her friends. I really do. But that wasn't our deal. If you don't hold up your end, I'm not going to hold up mine. And I feel like I have friends you _really_ want to train with. Really fast ones."

Will groaned. _Dirty pool._ His dad knew Will had idolized The Flash for as long as he could remember. "But what am I supposed to do when crime is happening _right in front of me_ not four years from now?"

"Organize safety patrols. Set up self-defense classes. Create a buddy system," Oliver suggested. "You're smarter than this, Will. One of the ways Adrian Chase got a bead on me was that everywhere I went so did a guy in a hood with arrows. You're making my same mistakes. If you're serious, do what I told you. Use this time to learn."

Will felt his cheeks prickle with embarrassment and shame.

He had to do better.


	3. Chapter 3

Sometimes Will felt like a dorky ass hall monitor, minus the bright yellow safety sash, which had been replaced by an electric blue and reflective silver 'Need Help? Ask Me' patrol shirt, but overall he really enjoyed what he did. He'd spent all four years of his academic career at this, making sure people got to and 'fro on campus safely. The provost board was thrilled and Weisenger-Papp had actually been ranked one of the safest campuses in the state.

Taking his dad's advice, Will had jump started campus programs which drew volunteers from human service majors like criminal justice, social work, pre-law, and more. There was the Nightlight Escort program, which was not nearly as racy as it sounded, but rather meant that anyone who felt uncomfortable criss-crossing campus after dark alone could send a text and within ten minutes, two or more of Will's safety crew would be there to walk with them wherever they were headed. They operated between academic buildings and dorms until 11 pm and from the library to the dorms from sunset to sunrise. People got a kick out of the hooting night owl noises they used to signal their arrival, the glowing night lights they wore as designation pendants, and the superhero-themed flashlights they used. Will got a small kick out of using his Green Arrow flashlight to light the way.

He'd also drummed up enough donations from local business owners to purchase used passenger vans and create Pappy Cares. It was a designated driver program that ran Friday through Sunday from sundown to sun up where Weisinger-Papp students could get a free, sober ride home from parties as long as they had a student ID and weren't actively puking or unconscious, a rule Will had had to institute after the great Delta Chi Upsilon party of Fall 2026. They played karaoke in the vans and strongly encouraged tips to cover the cost of gas and nobody had to risk driving drunk.

The most popular program, though, was Weiss Gals, where Will and a few buddies taught self-defense to underclassmen. True, it was mostly freshmen girls who stared and giggled non-stop, but Will got a real sense of accomplishment out of helping them transition from bashful freshies there because freshman orientation suggested it to bad asses who could flip Will over their shoulder if they wanted.

Will was very proud of what he'd established on campus and would miss WPU. But it had all been a part of his plan. He figured if his Dad's smoke screen prior to becoming mayor was 'reprobate who wouldn't bother helping his fellow man', he would go in the opposite direction with 'super helpful letter of the law guy who wouldn't dare operate outside the rules'.

His dad had made him promise to get a degree before Will could start his training. Today was graduation day.

"Oh my God, Will. I can't believe we made it." Tyler bounced over in her black cap and gown. A maroon and pink sash, the color of her sorority, was draped over her shoulders. She also wore a blue _cum laude_ cord. "Well, I knew you'd make it, but I thought that capstone class was going to kill me before I could walk the stage."

She straightened his graduation regalia. He had so much it was actually tipping into spectacle territory. A blue and silver sash from the honors college, blue, silver, and white _summa cum laude_ cords, a provost honor medal for the work he'd done on improving, and several honor society pins. Will had majored in Paramedicine Science, which licensed him as an EMT, and minored in Community Development. Tyler had double majored in Communications and Organizational Management.

He looked down at her, watching as her eyes sparkled with glee. Her dark hair spilled from underneath her mortar board. He couldn't help but pull her into a hug.

She returned the hug and he could feel her grin pressing into his chest as her head rested just under his chin, which she loved doing because Will was one of the few people who made her feel short even though she was 5'9".

"Just think, Will. In an hour, we'll be alumni. No more classes. We'll be out in the 'real world.'"

He smiled. "I know, Ty."

She looked up. "Have you even figured out what you want to do?"

Before he could respond, one of the professors in charge of wrangling graduates clapped his hands and yelled for them to get in line for procession. Unfortunately, Clayton-Queen and Speedwell had a lot of students between them. Will would never drop Clayton from his name, in honor of his mom, but he lamented that going by Queen alone would have put him much closer to Tyler.

Tyler gave him a tight squeeze. "Alright. Gotta go. I love you, William David."

"Not as much as I love you, Tyler Rose."

Three hours later, they were celebrating. Music vibrated through the reception hall his dad had rented. Tyler and Will had chosen to combine their graduation parties so it was a full house. Another fast beat song came on and Will finally had to beg off from dancing. Tyler had the energy of Jack Terrier on a sugar high and begged him to dance some more.

"Come on, don't tell me you graduated and immediately became an old man with a bad hip."

Will laughed. "We'll dance some more later. I promise. Even if it's just you and me."

"Ooh. A private dance. Mama likes."

"Such a dirty mind. You're a bad influence, Ty."

She raised her right hand. "'I solemnly swear I'm up to no good.'"

"You should get that tattooed on you. I'm going to get a drink and find my dad, thank him for the party."

Tyler nodded and smacked a kiss to his cheek before returning to the crowd that was doing an enthusiastic electric slide.

Will stopped by the bar and got a soda before searching for his dad. He found him sitting alone, watching the crowd. Will waved and headed over.

Oliver grinned at him, a rarity for such a stoic guy, even if he was far more affectionate with Will than anybody else.

"I am so unbelievably proud of you, right now."

"Thanks. Pretty proud of myself." Will sipped at his drink and looked at his dad, not knowing what to say.

Oliver pressed his lips together and let the silence ride for a moment before he broke it. Some of the joy seeped out of his eyes. "You want me to hold up my end of the deal."

"That's what you promised. I've been waiting for four years."

"And a deal is a deal." He pulled a card out of his pocket. "Meet me there tomorrow morning, 8 o'clock sharp."

Will accepted the card, reading the address before palming it. His dad stood and opened his mouth as though he wanted to say something. But nothing came out. Oliver shook his head and clapped Will on the shoulder before walking off.

Will couldn't help but feel as though he'd disappointed the man. But he wasn't doing anything bad and a promise made should always be a promise kept.

"What's that?" Tyler asked as she hopped into his lap, fanning herself.

Will huffed in surprise at the unexpected weight before allowing her to settle. "Nothing. Just a card. My dad knows what I want to do so he gave me a lead on where I can go to get started."

She hummed and took a sip of Will's soda. "That's awesome. Your dad is supportive. He's so proud of you. I can tell."

William hummed in thought. He would have agreed ten minutes ago, but suddenly he wasn't so sure.


	4. Chapter 4

Given the excitement of graduating college and the anticipation of his first day of training, Will could barely keep his eyes closed to even feign sleep. He lay in his old bed, which was much smaller and far less comfortable than he remembered it being four years ago. He and Tyler _had_ eventually discussed moving in together after college, but they hadn't figured out how to approach the idea with her parents so for tonight, they were apart for the first time in months.

As he listened to the second hand on his watch tick ever-forward, Will stared into the dark, studying the posters on his wall, illuminated softly by the loft's exterior lights. Posters of his heroes. The Flash. Super Girl. Vibe. He even had a few of his dad's old team. Spartan. Mr. Terrific. Wild Dog. Black Canary. Speedy, who was technically Will's Aunt Thea, but he didn't remember having ever met her. His dad told him he had, the first time he'd been kidnapped, by Damian Darhk, but 12 years later, that night was no more than a fuzzy blur. He always felt sad that he never really gotten to know Thea who was Will's age when she died. On the rare occasion that he talked about his old team, Oliver spoke of them with such fondness, particularly his younger sister. Will kept the posters up as a memorial to how much his dad had sacrificed as well as a sign that he understood the inherent danger to what he wanted to do. It might have started as hero worship, but he wasn't blind to what it might cost him.

So yes, Will's wall was covered by the protectors he idolized. There was even a small one of Green Arrow that he'd kept after receiving it as a second-runner up prize in a grade-level wide reading contest. He'd shown it to his dad who had laughed, but Will didn't fail to notice the soft look of appreciation Oliver had when he realized that Will had framed the 8"x10" and put it next to one of the few pictures he still had of his mom.

He'd wanted this for so long, and to be so close sent his heart racing with excitement even though he was laying prone in bed. Finally, around 3 am, he forced himself to fall into unconsciousness. Even hopped on adrenaline, he knew that whatever his dad had planned would be that much harder if he hadn't sleep in 36 hours.

Nevertheless, Will was up and at 'em long before his 6:30 am alarm sounded. He'd googled the address on the card his dad had given him and it was in Central City. Maybe Will was being a little too bright side, but he couldn't help but hope that maybe that meant he would get to meet the Flash today.

Will laughed quietly as he dressed, after spending long minutes trying to figure out what would be appropriate for 'super hero training'. His dad had always worn dark joggers and t-shirt when they worked out together, so he figured that would work and he dressed with his mind dancing ahead to what the day might hold. He could remember being eight years old and hearing about the scarlet speedster for the first time. Now, they might even be friends.

Too excited to eat, Will grabbed his key from the kitchen, scanning just enough to know that his dad had been gone long enough that his breakfast dishes were completely dry and the coffee in the pot was no longer hot. Not a good sign. He tossed a look at the digital clock on the kitchen wall that read '7:00' so he was making decent time, but on time was probably late when it came to this. Will grabbed his messenger bag and hurried out the door.

Only to be greeted with bumper-to-bumper traffic of his fellow citizens who lived in one leg of the tri-state area but worked in another.

"Nooo. Not _today,_ " he grumbled with more than a hint of a whine. Will checked all his mirrors and inched forward as space allowed. 30 minutes later, his GPS informed him that he had completed an entire mile of the 27-mile route. This was probably the main reasons that heroes only protected one city.

"Ok. Screw this," Will mumbled and jerked the wheel to the right to a cacophony of slamming brakes and honking horns. "Sorry! You'll thank me later."

He made it to the exit and waited for his GPS to reroute, hoping to make up time on the side streets. But his hopes were dashed and he pulled up to an airplane hangar at 8:07. He parked, grabbed his gear, and hurried to the only door he saw. He rapped his knuckles against the door refusing to acknowledge the sting hitting the metal set off.

After a few moments, he heard clicking and the door opened. His dad looked at him and over his shoulder at Will's car before pointedly checking his watch, humming, and pushing the door wide enough to allow Will entrance, but otherwise made no comment.

"I swear a left with plenty of time to go but traffic was a nightmare and then the directions on my GPS were wrong and by the time I found this place… but I'm ready to work. I swear. I'm really sorry. It won't happen again."

"Hey, Barry. He's stealing your can't-be-on-time-to-save-my-life schtick."

It was then that Will realized they weren't alone. Further into the space were two of his dad's friends. Cisco Ramon, who had periodically babysat Will and JJ, Lyla Diggle's son, when they were kids and Oliver and Lyla had an important mission to work on, and Barry Allen, a CSI tech that sometimes helped his dad brainstorm leads. His wife, Iris, also worked the Flash beat for the Central City Citizen.

Will's mouth snapped shut and he mentally tried to replay what he'd been blurting out as he walked in. It would suck if he'd accidentally outed his dad on day 1, but it would be his dad's fault for bringing in two civilians. Although, maybe Barry already knew a bit about the life if Iris was so heavily involved in the superhero/ meta beat.

"What are they doing here?" he asked softly.

Oliver planted his feet and crossed him arms. "You said you wanted to train to protect the city. They know a little about that."

Will snorted. "Right. My babysitter and your nerdy forensics tech friend?"

He went to set his bag down, but before it even touched the floor, he saw a red streak and felt wind rushing by him. By the time he could get his eyes to settle on a solid object, he saw Barry standing on the other side of the room, dangling his bag in the air by its straps.

 _No. Freaking. Way._

Will stared dumbly at Barry. His mouth was hanging open, but he couldn't help it. He glanced over at Oliver who was trying, and failing, to smother a grin.

Will finally closed his mouth and swallowed hard. "You weren't shitting about meeting Super Heroes in their everyday life and never even knowing. Who else do I know?"

Oliver shrugged. "Can't tell you that."

"Why not?"

"Not my secret to tell."

"You should feel pretty lucky," Barry said as he slung Will's bag back across the floor. "Oliver used to arrow people who found out his secret identity."

Oliver frowned. "Don't tell him that."

"What? Am I lying? You shot _me_. _Twice!"_

Will gaped in disbelief. "You shot _the Flash_?"

"To teach him a lesson. And he heals fast. He was fine," Oliver pointed out.

Cisco chimed in. "Your dad helped TRAIN the Flash."

Will did a double take. "You have got to be shitting me. While I was living with you?"

"Will, language," Oliver barked. "And no, before I even knew you existed. This is getting out of control."

Will turned to study Cisco. "So if he's the Flash, who are you? You're not Kid Flash."

"Pfft. As if," Cisco said with a roll of his eyes.

Will nodded his head. "You look kinda slow."

Cisco stopped chewing on his Twizzler and gave him a snotty look. "Says the kid who doesn't even have powers. Watch and learn."

Cisco clapped a hand to Will's shoulder and Will couldn't help the shout he gave as his head seemed to explode with images and light. As soon as he caught his breath, Will looked around. It was like standing in the middle of an electric cloud. He looked at Cisco who grinned back.

"Do you want to walk down memory lane or see what the future holds?"

Will looked where Cisco gestured and saw two portals. Just inside of one portal, he could make out the image of his mom and his much younger self. His heart pounded so fast, he thought it might make a break for it clear out of his chest. He shook his head. No way was he ripping that bandage back off. He'd worked too hard to numb the constant ache of missing her.

"The future."

"This way." Cisco grabbed his hand and pulled him through the portal.

They landed in a nice living room, clearly someone's house. It was quiet for a moment before a little girl, about two years old came running into the room at full speed, giggling hysterically.

"Dada! Dada!"

She looked straight at him and Will startled and made a move to hide or something, but Cisco stopped him.

"She can't see us."

"Where are you, miss Maddy? I'm going to find you!"

Will's eyebrows rose in astonishment as he watched himself, maybe ten years older, come around the corner, lumbering in an exaggerated Frankenstein manner.

Maddy giggled and ran further across the room.

"Will, why do you always get her worked up right before bed time?" A woman he didn't recognize stuck her head out of the kitchen and smiled indulgently at the two. Blonde and very petite, she was most definitely not Tyler.

Older Will's eyes widened comically. "Uh-oh. Mommy's mad."

"Uh-oh!" Maddy echoed.

Will looked at Cisco. "Wait. That's not my girlfriend. Who is that?"

Cisco shrugged. "Beats me. It's your future."

He tugged a reluctant Will back into the storm cloud.

Will was silent, trying to process what he'd seen. He and Tyler were destined to break up? No way. "Doesn't looking at the future mess it up?"

"Nope. You're looking at a possibility. It still may or may not happen." Cisco took his hand off of Will's shoulder and they were back in the hangar. "What you saw may or may not happen. And it may not even really be what it looks like."

Will hummed, still thinking, before glancing at his dad. "How long were we gone?"

Oliver looked at his watch. "About 45 seconds."

Will startled in surprise but before he could ask any more questions, Barry started talking.

"So besides being Vibe, Cisco also provides tech backup and names villains."

Cisco nodded and grinned with pride. "Rainbow Raider, Mirror Master, Captain Cold, Heatwave, Weather Wizard, all monikers by _moi_."

"So I don't even get to pick my own name?"

Cisco frowned. "Dude, no. That's like picking your own nickname. What douche does that?"

Barry stared at Cisco. "Didn't you pick your name?"

Cisco glared back. "No. I most definitely did not. I said I felt vibes and we kinda ran with it."

"How about you?" Will asked Barry.

"The media. First I was the crimson streak and then I became the Flash."

Will looked over to Oliver.

"A mixture of the bad guys and the cops. Who were sometimes the bad guys. People just picked a word to describe what they saw. _Kapiushon_ , the hood, the vigilante, _Al Sah-him_ , the arrow, green arrow. All me."

Cisco flopped back down into his computer chair at the massive, multi-screen console, and spun. "Basically, once people see what you can do, whatever you're best at will become your name. So I hope you're packing something good. Your dad's already got Green and Arrow covered."

"He doesn't have any powers, does he, Ollie?" Barry asked.

Ollie shrugged. "I've never seen him manifest anything, but he was in Central City when the particle accelerator exploded. I was thinking we could stress test him just to be sure."

Both Barry and Cisco sucked in a breath.

"Oh yeah, baby!" Cisco said, with a level of glee and hand rubbing that made Will leery for his own safety.

Oliver looked at Will with a small smile. "Let's see what you got."


	5. Chapter 5

This is probably what dying feels like, Will thought as he struggled not to double over, doing his best not to pant so loudly. And somehow, he was the only one out of breath even though he was the youngest person present. The quick breaths sucked in through his nose were making an embarrassing, whiny, whistling noise the rest of the room pretended not to hear. Will scratched at the glue holding the sensors to his skin and straightened.

They'd been 'stress-testing' for almost an hour now. First was the treadmill. He'd been okay at 6 miles per hour, concentrating at 8, straining at 10, and only Barry's quick reflexes had kept him from flying off the damn thing at 12, far below Barry's normal warmup of 769 miles per hour, so he definitely wasn't secretly a speedster. After his lungs stopped feeling like they'd hemorrhaged, Cisco had started in on him, popping in and out of his electric cloud, slapping at Will, trying to get him to respond somehow. Will blocked and parried some of the blows, but missed even more. Other than getting hand-shaped bruises, that hadn't turned up anything either. They'd tried other things that might trigger the range of powers they knew, without anything to show. Finally, Oliver drew the line, glaring when Cisco suggested vibing Will to the top of the hangar to see if he could fly or glide.

"Touchy," Cisco muttered. "It's not like we would let him die or anything."

Barry slumped at the computer console, arms crossed over his chest, his legs crossed at the ankles. "We've done everything I can think of within reason."

Cisco shrugged and pulled a Twizzler stick from his never-empty pack. "Maybe you just don't have powers, kid."

"It's no big deal. Your old man doesn't either and he's kept Star City safe for decades."

Will sighed, disappointed. He'd never felt like he had any mojo, but when his dad had brought up the idea… It was his own fault for letting his imagination run wild.

"Hey, Will."

He turned at the sound of his dad's voice but stuttered to a stop when he saw Oliver with his bow out, arrow set, and string pulled back.

"Catch," Oliver barked.

"Wha—"

His dad let the arrow fly.

Will threw his hands up, one blocking his face, the other in front of his chest, bracing for what was guaranteed to be a wildly painful, searing wound.

But it never came.

"Holy shit."

Will peaked his eyes open and looked at the arrow. Suspended in mid-air, moving ever so slowly towards his chest. Cisco hopped over giddily and plucked it from the air.

"Shut the front door. The kid's got some juice!"

"That's so cool!" Barry grinned. "It's like the opposite of my power. Instead of going faster than everything around you, you can make the things around you go slower."

Will took the arrow from Cisco's grip, half-way expecting to find invisible strings like they used for special effects in old timey movies. "Why's it just showing up now?"

Cisco shrugged. "Most of the metas we've met were already adults in their mid to late 20s when the explosion happened. You were what? 4 or 5? Maybe your powers were like, locked away, because you were so little."

Will hummed, considering the explanation. "And my body just picked 'magically slows things down?'"

"Powers are usually tied to trauma," Barry said. "I saw yellow lightning murder my mom but I wasn't fast enough to stop it. When I got powers, it was based on speed, made me 'the fastest man alive.'"

"My powers didn't manifest until I was almost murdered," Cisco pointed out. "It was someone I trusted because I didn't have all the information. Now I have the ability to see the past, present, and future and to move out of harm's way quickly."

"The biggest trauma that ever happened to you was the island," Oliver said. "And if you're like me, you probably wished a million times that we'd had more time to react, that we could've made things slow down so we could help everybody get out."

"And your meta-genie genes said 'wish granted.'" Cisco grinned. "Do it again?"

He threw a binder at Will, which smacked him in the face.

"Ow!"

"You were supposed to stop it."

"You didn't _warn_ me. My dad _warned_ me."

Cisco rolled his eyes. "Incoming!"

A paperweight flew his way. He caught it, but it was the same way anybody else would catch a flying object. Cisco gave him a dull look of annoyance.

"Hey!"

Will turned towards the noise just in time to get hit in the side of the face with a book. "Jesus, would you two—"

Oliver failed in his bid to hold back laughter. "Okay, guys. Can you stop before you give him a concussion or something?"

"You shot an arrow at him!" Barry pointed out unhelpfully.

"Which he stopped," Oliver responded. "So why did you stop the arrow but not the office supplies?"

Will shrugged, rubbing the side of his face. "I dunno."

"Yeah, you do. Something made you use your powers against me but not them. What?"

"Is this a daddy issue thing?" Cisco asked. "That's almost required to be a superhero."

"I don't have daddy issues," Barry objected.

"You're thinking World's Best Dad Contestant Joe West," Cisco said. "Your bio dad was accused of murdering your mom, left town after you worked for 15 years to get him released, and then returned just in time to get murdered in front of your eyes just like your mom."

Barry blinked. "Thank for reminding me."

"Guys-" Oliver started.

"Sorry." They responded in unison.

Will frowned, thinking. "You've been telling me for as long I can remember that your bow is not a toy, that your arrows can do serious damage if they hit someone, and that when you draw it, you're not playing. So maybe when they're tossing staplers at me, it still kinda registered as goofing around, but when I saw you aiming your bow, I knew it was time to be serious."

"So the threat has to feel real."

"I guess." Will shrugged. "What would you have done if I didn't catch it?"

Oliver took the arrow, pointed the head towards himself, and stabbed it into his chest. Will jerked in surprise and nearly gasped before his mind caught up with his eyes. There was no blood, no nothing.

Oliver held out the arrow. The head had collapsed into the shaft. "You'd have gotten a bruise at worst."

Cisco laughed. "One point for the normie with the gadgetry."

"Ok. So the threat has to feel real," Oliver said, more to himself than to the others in the room. "Alright. I've got a quiver full of arrows. Most of them are trick arrows. Might stun you. Might shock you. Might gas you. Non-lethal. But one of them is real, so I need you to stop all of them."

Oliver pulled the first arrow and set it. "Ready?"

Will swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his ears. "Ready."

Will's shirt looked like he'd been through a color run, splotched with fluorescent, glow-in-the-dark stains. The tagger arrows were very effective and equally hard to stop even with his new-found powers. His fingertips still buzzed from his marginally more successful attempts to stop a shock arrow. He considered the net arrow a full success since he'd not only made it suspend in the air, but also avoided its intended purpose, the net deploying only once it dropped to the floor. The binding arrow could be counted either way since it was able to make one lose loop of rope around him before he made it completely lose momentum and drop to the ground. By the time Oliver got to the real arrow, which his dad completely telegraphed even as he pretended not to, Will had stopped six arrows in a row and was able to stop that one as well, snatching it from the air with a satisfied grin.

Oliver smiled back.

Barry and Cisco geeked out, wanting to see what else will's power could affect. Cisco popped up to the ceiling beam and let himself fall to the floor. He had to vibe himself back to safety twice before Will was able to slow his momentum enough for Cisco to risk actually landing. They tried a few more times with Cisco experimenting with different directions of approach. Then they switched to Barry. No matter how hard he concentrated, Will could not stop the speedster. He did, however, manage to slow him from a streak to a really, really fast blur.

"That's pretty awesome," Barry said, beaming from ear to ear as he jerked to a stop. "I could actually feel the pull."

"Right?" Cisco agreed. "That might come in handy when we get our annual evil speedster."

Barry laughed.

"Ooh!" Cisco yelped. "I wonder if you can stop a bullet?"

"Ok, guys, that's enough for today" Oliver interrupted, pulling himself up from where he'd been sitting, watching. "Let's wait until we have more safety precautions like a bullet-proof vest before we start testing weapons that require ammo. And _if_ we ever do that, the focus will be on getting out of the way, not trying to look like a bad ass and hoping for the best."

He said the last part with a glare at Cisco.

"Well, duh," Cisco mutter, but the red tinge on his dark cheeks told a different story.

Will was a little disappointed, as insane as that might sound, because he was having fun and it was beyond nuts that Vibe and The Flash- The _freaking_ Flash was helping him hone his powers and cracking jokes like they were old buddies. But his dad's super power was tactical skill and he'd learned the hard way to quit while he was ahead.

Barry hummed in agreement. "Absolutely. I gotta go anyway. My shift starts in like 5 minutes, and I gotta get to the other side of town."

"I should probably at least show my face at city hall." Oliver picked up his quiver and gear bag. "Give me a lift, Will?"

Will frowned. "How did you get here?"

"I had Barry speed me over. Wouldn't want to get stuck in traffic on your first day of training."

He walked past Will, out to the car, leaving Will staring in his wake and tempted to try his new power on _him._


	6. Chapter 6

Finding out he had a super power was... cool? Scary? Confusing?

Will didn't know how to describe it. He'd grown up obsessing over comic books and heroes. He wanted to know every detail, but the stories were notoriously light on origin stories and first-person narratives, probably would be as long as the current batch of superheroes still had secret identities to hide. Undeterred, or maybe spurred on by the challenge, he'd spent hours trying to imagine what it would be like to suddenly have super speed or the ability to fly.

Now he had his own, honest to god super power. He could control velocity. He literally might be the only one who has it. He'd certainly never heard of it before.

Will sat on the sofa, ever-present tennis ball in his hand. He and his dad were lounging in the living room. They'd cleaned up the kitchen after dinner and were settling down for the night. Dressed in a white v-neck and green plaid pajama pants, Oliver sat with his head slumped onto the sofa back, his eyes still slit slightly open, but his breathing deep and heavy in spite of the loud explosions in the movie they were watching. Years of being in and around real explosions probably made the movie sound effects sound like weak firecrackers in comparison, not even worth his subconscious attention.

Will tossed his ball in the air, trying to slow its descent. It was more miss than hit because his mind kept wandering.

The Flash's – Barry's – powers, his entire team, were more or less speed-based. Will was literally the opposite. And it wasn't a flashy, offensive power like Firestorm's fire blasts or Killer Frost's ice bursts. It was a defensive power created out of Will's desperate desire to protect. Not the kind of power kids dreamed of.

 _When I grow up, I'm going to be slow, just like Slow-Motion Man!_

Will scoffed softly, tossing the ball in the air and catching it without even pausing its descent.

Regardless, it was a power, unlike his dad's skill set which was pure grit and determination. Out in the field, his dad made it look easy. Effortless. He might as well be able to fly given how smoothly he moved from building to building.

But Will had seen the work his dad put in. And the aftermath of a hard week. The rest, ice, compression, elevation days. The extra-strength pain reliever is not extra enough days.

And here Will sat, playing his inner tiny violin, because his powers were not 'cool' enough.

Feeling a surge of emotion, maybe shame or embarrassment or determination, Will threw his tennis ball in the air, higher than he'd ever dared. But it was no big deal because he could control it. He was sure of it.

Or at least he was until his powers spazzed and the tennis ball did a weird forty-five-degree curve at the last second, taking out a lamp, and landing solidly in his dad's lap, causing him to wake with startled yelp, brandishing a KA-Bar knife Will had forgotten Oliver slept with.

Which is how they found out Will could also affect the trajectory of projectiles.

Surprise.

Another power meant more training session with Cisco, Barry, and his dad. If Team Flash weren't so puppy dog friendly, Will would be convinced it was just an excuse for them to throw random stuff and knock him around. But they put him through his paces, forcing him to slowly and painfully hone his powers to something more controllable. At the end of the session, Will was once again the only one sweating and out of breath, slumped on the floor.

"Isn't he, like, 22?" Cisco asked, watching Will's recovery curiously. "Why is he so… wiped out all the time?"

Barry tossed a bottle of water at Will, which made him flinch, but he was able to slow it down and guide it slowly to the floor. "He's probably like me and his powers are pulling from his energy reserve. Remember when we first started training and I, like, literally couldn't get enough food?"

"Oh yeah," Cisco nodded. "We'll have Caitlin test you for that, maybe get you some supplements like Barry's if you need it."

"Plus, he's technically still going through the tail end of puberty," Oliver reminded them.

"Dad," Will hissed.

 _Don't embarrass me in front of the superheroes…_

"No, that's actually important," Cisco said. "Puberty and pregnancy affect everything in medicine and nutrition. I can safely assume you're not pregnant, right?"

Will rolled his eyes and only just barely resisted flipping the bird, but only because his dad was within head slapping range.

When they finally got home, it was all Will could do to make it to his room and collapse on his bed. He may have feigned irritation at the others fussing over his energy levels, but training was seriously draining his batteries. He woke up ready to go back to sleep.

He was nearly asleep when his phone vibrated on the mattress, startling him back to the land of the awake and functioning. He fumbled for it blindly and put it up to his ear, not even opening his eyes.

"'lo?"

"Will? Where are you?" Tyler's voice chirped through.

"Home. Whassup?"

Tyler didn't answer, but he could hear lots of conversation and laughter in the background. Will opened his eyes and pushed up on an elbow. "Ty?"

"Are you asleep?" She asked.

"Yeah, sorry. Not feelin' so hot. Really tired. You need something?"

"No. If you're not feeling well, you need to rest. I was just… worried."

"I should've called."

"Yeah, you should have, but don't worry about it," she said.

The background noises finally registered. "Shit, Ty! I was supposed to meet you for Glenn and Stacy's party. Damn it. I'll get dressed now."

"Don't you dare. I'm fine. You stay where you are."

Will swung his legs over the side of the bed. "No, you shouldn't have to be there by yourself."

Tyler made a raspberry sound. "You make it sound like I'm facing a firing squad rather than a few of our friends. I'll tell them you're sick. It's fine."

"You sure?"

"Will, if I see you here, I'm going to grab you by the ear and force you back home. Concentrate on getting better. I'll come by and see you tomorrow, bring you a Feel-Better basket with all your favorites, yeah?"

Well, if that didn't make him feel like shit...

"You're the best," Will mumbled.

"I know. I love you, William David."

"Not as much as I love you, Tyler Rose."

Will hung up and flopped back to the bed with a groan.

He'd just lied to his girlfriend. To cover for superhero stuff.

He didn't mean to. It just kinda slipped out. It was easier than the truth.

Which made him the World's Biggest Hypocrite. He remembered how angry he'd been when he found out the truth about his dad's double life, how much shit he'd given Oliver when he'd first come to live with him. Will had wondered how anybody could lie to people they supposedly cared about.

Apparently, it was pretty easy.

But Will didn't want to be that person. He might not be ready to tell Tyler the full truth yet, but he didn't have to break his word. He'd be where he promised to be.

Which was easier said than done once his dad decided they should increase practices from once a week to nightly. Will didn't want to complain. He'd been begging his dad to train him for years. The last thing he wanted to do was change Oliver's mind. But the time commitment was cutting into his personal life. When he casually brought that up at the end of a sparring match, Oliver pointed out that he himself had trained four hours a day when he first started out and still trained an hour every night while simultaneously working as the mayor and raising a child as a single parent.

So Will was a wuss for complaining.

Which is how he ended up flopped on his bed, completely sore, Tyler kneeling along his side, kneading the muscles in his lower back.

"What have you been up to? Have you been to a doctor? Being this rundown and sore all the time is not normal."

Will hissed as she worked on a particularly tight bundle of muscle. "No, I'm fine. I've just been training really hard with my dad."

"For what?" She asked, stretching to glide her hands up to the top of his back.

Normally, she'd just straddle him which would make this much easier, but every thirty minutes or so, his dad would find a reason to knock on the door and check on them, leaving the door open in his wake after they'd 'accidentally' closed it following a trip to the bathroom or kitchen. Will didn't bother to tell his dad that if they really wanted to get up to something, it wouldn't take a whole thirty minutes. He was proud of his stamina, but in his early twenties, stamina took concerted effort.

Will groaned into her touch, belatedly biting down on the sound, knowing that his dad would be right back up here if he heard it. "For a… a triathlon. It's coming up soon."

"Why didn't you tell me? I might've joined you guys."

Will tensed, scrambling for an answer. "Well, intense outdoorsy stuff has always been his way of father-son bonding. Did I ever tell you he almost killed me with a hike when I first got here?"

Tyler laughed, the sound deep and hearty, not the least bit dainty, reminding Will of why he liked her so much. "Seriously? Now you have to tell me the whole story."

Will did and if he downplayed how bitchy he'd been, that was his own business.

"I totally believe your dad would have had a ceremony for would-be rescuers," Tyler said with a chuckle. "I forget you guys haven't always been together. You're so close."

"Yeah, he's intense, but he's the best."

Tyler hums. "Maybe you should ask him to lighten up a bit."

"Nah. I like it and I think he gets a kick out of it."

Tyler chuckles and leans down to kiss the base of his neck. "Well, as long as you're having fun. Just remember, I need you in one piece for the fundraiser on the 31st."

He, Tyler, and a group of their friends had banded together to open a recreation/ after school care center in the New Glades. The area had been built on the rubble of the old Glades that had been destroyed nearly twenty years earlier. The neighborhood struggled with poverty and resources but its residents clearly wanted better for their children.

"I'll be there," he promised.

Nothing could make him forget.

Except his dad announcing that Will was ready for a trial run on patrol.


	7. Chapter 7

Will had spent weeks learning how to slow things down. He'd gotten pretty good if he said so himself. But some things, like a certain speedster and his frantic heart rate, apparently were still out of his control.

"We can always go back home," his dad said casually as he suited up by memory, his eyes all the while scanning over Will, no doubt noting the rapid breathing and light sheen of sweat. "I DVR-ed Shark Week. You can get your fill of predator-prey from the safety of the couch."

Will snorted. First patrol ever or a recording of the annual Shark Week which had been airing faithfully for nearly twenty years? "Nah. I'm fine. It's just pre-game jitters. It'll be fine once we get out there."

He wiped his sweaty palms on his clothes as discreetly as he could. It was all-black, nothing flashy. In fact, he looked more like a cat burglar than a badass vigilante, but Cisco said it was just temporary. The clothing contained sensors that would record how Will moved in real-world situations so a suit that bent and flexed the way he needed could be built based on the readings.

"Alright, got everything you need?" Oliver asked, looping his quiver in place.

"Yeah."

"Crossbow? Arrows? Throwing knife? Voice modulator?" Oliver checked off as though Will hadn't already answered.

Will laughed, the scene playing out like a weird parody of their school morning routine. "Yes. I have everything."

"Remember, if you need help or my attention, I'm not 'dad', I'm Green Arrow."

Will nodded. "And I'm not 'Will' or 'Buddy', I'm Speed Warper."

Cisco had been inordinately proud of the name, making sure Will knew how hard it had been to come up with a cool name for someone who's primary power is slowness. Will had to admit it was already growing on him.

Oliver nodded then paused for a second, gripping his bow, looking at Will. Will tried to look reassuringly competent and not like a kid leaving for his first day of kindergarten. Oliver nodded again and slung his bow on his back.

"Let's go."

Will followed his dad out of the former arrow cave and out on the street, heart racing for…

Nothing.

He wasn't exactly sure what he thought would happen. Maybe a Hollywood transition where they went from door to fight in seconds. Or to at least hear sirens that would alert them to potential trouble. Instead, he was trailing his dad up and down different streets. Most law-abiding citizens were in for the night, so the streets were quiet and empty as they walked to and fro. It was oddly like their trips to the grocery store when Will was a kid and he followed Oliver up one aisle and down the next, but less interesting since there were no brightly colored products to distract him.

Time passed slowly and, by Will's guess, they'd already covered fourteen or fifteen square miles of the city which was a bit much even given their training. Will's feet were starting to ache and he was more than a little bored. The only action they'd seen was helping an exhausted looking woman with two small kids push her stalled out car through the intersection to a safer position on the side of the road.

Will paused and flexed his ankle which was totally not swelling. He refused to complain when he knew his dad had braces on both knees. "So why don't we patrol roof tops for a little while? Maybe get in some practice with the grappling arrows?"

Oliver stopped, waiting for Will to catch up. "We patrol on the ground. You only go to the roof tops if you have to. And roof hopping wears out your muscles and dulls your arrows. If we do it for fun, we might get caught flatfooted and tired if we actually need to do it to catch somebody."

The answer was both patient and reasonable, but Will could still hear the slightest hints of 'My bow is not a toy' coloring his dad's voice.

"Don't wish for trouble. Trust me. It will find us. Keep your head on a swivel because when it pops off, we'll be in the thick of it."

Cisco said Oliver didn't have any powers, but damned if he was nearly clairvoyant.

They were patrolling around the abandoned navy yard, an area his dad was vigilant about both as the mayor and the Green Arrow, but the baddies who frequented the area were an insidious game of whack-a-mole. SCPD had just done a bust a week ago so it was far too soon for any new operation to have set up, but his dad said he checked it as part of his usual route.

Tonight, there was a black car, a really nice one. Far too nice for such a rundown part of town. It had been idling with the headlights on for over twenty minutes. Oliver and Will sat crouched along-side the industrial ship barn, waiting to see what the occupants would do. It was clearly some kind of pick up or drop off. Will shivered while Oliver tapped the license plate number into the heads-up display on his wrist.

"The car's clean," he whispered. "Comes back to Sullivan O'Claire."

"Of O'Claire's Coffe Imports?" Will asked.

Oliver nodded. "Yep. O'Claire is so rich he makes my parents look destitute, so you gotta wonder what he's doing in the South End this time of night."

The South End was part of 'The Triangle' bordering the New Glades and Lamb Valley. It was an area fought over by the existing and aspiring crime factions and where Green Arrow spent most of his nights. Definitely no place for a multi-billionaire past dark. Maybe not even during the day.

They didn't have to wait long before three more cars showed up, a small caravan of uniformly black SUVs, kicking up dust and gravel. The driver of O'Claire's vehicle got out and opened the back door. Sullivan O'Claire, a tall, svelte man man in his fifties, climbed out. Normally, in the social life section of the paper, he looked aristocratic and the pinnacle of style and wealth. Tonight, he looked pallid and rumpled, a briefcase clutched in his hand.

From the front of the SUV emerged two men, both in black, like Will, both armed with automatic weapons, unlike Will. One walked to the backdoor of the SUV and opened it. A slender man stepped out, also dressed in all-black except without the face masks of his companions. He also wore a blazer instead of bulky bullet-proof vest. He'd probably be considered good looking if it weren't for the jagged scar slashed over his face, crossing one eye, over the bridge of his nose and onto his cheek. He was probably still pissed at whoever had done it.

"Where's the money?" he asked. As he spoke, more guys in black poured out of the other vehicles.

O'Claire motioned with the briefcase. "It's here. All of it. I didn't call the police or anything. Just like you said."

"Hand it over." Scar guy signaled for a goon to get the case.

O'Claire tucked the case behind his body. "I need to see her first."

Scar guy paused, visibly considering. "Fair enough."

He motioned to one of his lackeys who opened the door and pulled a crying, struggling woman out of the backseat. She was much younger than O'Claire. His daughter if Will remembered correctly. Emily… Amelie. Amelie O'Claire. Heiress to O'Claire Coffe Imports.

"Hey, Speed Warper."

Will looked at his dad who was giving him a look back that said it was not the first time he'd called Will's code name.

"Pay attention. I'm going to try to find a better angle. If this goes bad, I might have to take some of these guys out. You can help from here. Get your crossbow ready. Stay in cover no matter what, got it?"

Will nodded and watched his dad disappear into the night. He gripped his crossbow and tried to remember if his dad had said he'd signal first or what exactly constituted 'this goes bad.' His heart was suddenly pounding so fast he couldn't hear over the blood rushing through his ears.

Years ago, Will had watched a documentary on police officers fresh out of the academy where they described their first day on the streets, how when they witnessed their first crime, a life time of 'let the cops handle it' automatically kicked in and they had to remind themselves they _were_ the cops.

Will was so lost in watching the scene in front of him while trying to think of what he would do if he had to act that he didn't hear the guy sneaking up behind him.

What he _did_ hear was a sharp cracking noise and followed by a bright white flash. His head snapped forward and he would swear on his mother's grave that he felt his brain slosh forward and then back again. He dropped to his knees with a very loud yelp, his crossbow clattering to the ground, the world tilting and his stomach going along for the ride. His mouth watered and he squeezed his eyes shut.

Everything around him exploded into sound and action, people yelling, cursing, and running, guns firing, arrows zinging through the air.

But Will was doing none of those things. Instead, a sharp blow to the ribs sent the air flying out Will's lungs and knocked him completely to the ground, reeling.

"Get up!" He heard his dad screech at him.

He looked up and saw two blurry, spinning Green Arrows rushing at him, only to be tackled by the men in dark clothing. He pushed to his knees, trying with everything he had to stand, but his muscles wobbled like Jello and he collapsed back to the ground. He could see his dad fighting three, four, five guys, desperately trying to get to him, but the guys weren't light weights.

The guy with the two by four hit him again and Will curled up, ribs screaming in agony. He could see the guy winding up again and Will desperately scrambled to get his powers going. He was able to slow wood plank down enough that the guy lost his grip and it clattered to the ground. A green-tipped arrow flying through the air sent the guy to the ground not far behind.

Will dropped to the pavement, that small surge of power too much in combination with the smack to the head.

He wanted to sleep. No, first he wanted to throw up, then sleep. The push was overwhelming. But the niggling voice in his head insisted he had to get to safety first.

Ignoring the waves of nausea, he pushed to his hands and knees and started to crawl. To the back of the boat shed, further into the darkness, away from danger. He couldn't look up, the bright street lamps made his head explode into a million uncontrollable pieces. He put his head down and crawled. Peeking every few seconds, minutes, days, to gauge his progress. Somehow the shed, safety, was getting further and further away and there were more and more bad guys popping out of nowhere.

He could still hear his dad screaming, fighting, grunting.

 _Get up! Get out of here!_

He tried.

Until he just couldn't anymore.

He collapsed on his side, the cold of the cement, shocking to his hot skin even through his clothes, tipping the scale and making him spew the contents of his stomach.

The last thing he saw before the darkness sucked him under was a bright crimson streak and electric blue waves.


	8. Chapter 8

"You want soup?" Oliver asked, apron tied around his waist, brow furrowed in concern, the very picture of a mother hen. Or father hen, as it were.

"No, thank you."

"You sure? We got split pea, chicken noodle, minestrone… If you're not feeling any of those, I can make a grocery run, whip up any flavor you want."

"I'm good, Dad."

Will didn't want any more soup. Or Jello. Or orange juice. Or popsicles. What he wanted was to be allowed somewhere other than his bed or the downstairs' sofas. As it stood, he couldn't even go to the bathroom without his dad hovering nervously outside the door like Will might slip, fall, and drown in the toilet.

It had been a little over two weeks since the… incident, which had left Will with a severe concussion, one cracked rib, a twisted ankle that required an air boot, and a freaked-out dad who was already prone to an irrational desire to protect everyone and drowning in guilt when he failed.

After two weeks of the Oliver's intense Florence Nightingale routine, Will could recall the president (Quade Hendrix), his full name (William David Clayton-Queen), where he lived (in Star City with his dad), and what happened (a guy with a wood beam played t-ball with his skull) without hesitating. He'd cleared concussion protocol last week and his ribs no longer made him nearly piss himself with every breath. But the boot kept him grounded and reminded his dad of Will's injury with every hobble-limp step Will took.

More than once Will had tried to apologize but to no avail.

 _You've got nothing to apologize for, Buddy. You didn't do anything wrong._

The unspoken message was that Oliver had been in the wrong for taking Will out against his own judgment. And as long as Will was visibly injured, trying to convince his dad otherwise was pointless.

If Will even wanted to.

He knew vigilantes got hurt. He'd seen his dad icing bruises, nursing sprains. Oliver had even dislocated his kneecap once, leading to the braces that were now standard to his uniform. But it's one thing to see someone injured and know how it happened.

It's a whole other to have trouble remembering how old you are, where you are or how you got there.

But as sucky as that whole experience was, it was only the tip of Will's craptastic problem pyramid. His dad was at least consistent in smothering him with unneeded care. Tyler, on the other hand, was whiplashing wildly back and forth between angry and scared, furious and concerned. And keeping her in the dark wasn't helping.

Will had considered telling her the truth until he realized that was basically ' _Yeah, Ty, I got hurt fighting crime with the Green Arrow'_ which was hard enough to believe. Then he realized he couldn't even say that without explaining how he knew the Green Arrow and inadvertently outing his dad. And his dad was huge on the sanctity of secret identities.

The weight and effort of deception, ugly and painful, wedged between them every time Tyler came to check up on his recovery.

"Dad?"

"Yeah, Buddy?" Oliver answered quickly, wiping his hands on the towel he'd been using to clean the kitchen. One of the many secrets of Oliver Queen was that he was clean freak. The apartment was always immaculate, but when he was stressed, it bordered on ridiculous.

"I think I need to tell Tyler the truth. About me being Speed Warper and how I got hurt."

Oliver sat on the couch perpendicular to the one Will rested on. His head tilted in thought for a moment before he looked at Will. "Okay. Walk me through it. What are you going to say? Practice on me."

Will pushed up one elbow and squinted at his dad. "Seriously?"

"Seriously. This is not a conversation where you can get nervous and blurt whatever comes to mind. So practice on me."

Sighing, Will sat all the way up and swung his legs onto the floor, motioning his dad away when Oliver moved to help. "I got it."

He thought for a second. Was there a good way to start this conversation?

"Um… Okay. Tyler? You know how last week I told you that I was mugged in South Bend?"

"You mean that night you were supposed to go to a fundraiser with me but totally flaked even though I told you about it a month in advance?" Olive-as-Tyler asked.

"Dad!"

Oliver gave him an incredulous look. "I'm sorry. Have you never argued with a girl before? They remember everything and use it like wild cards and draw fours in Uno."

Will laughed, groaning when his ribs throbbed in warning, then worked to pull a straight face. "Yes, that night. Which, again, I'm very, very sorry—"

"Why were you even in the South End? We don't even go there during the day. Your dad always says it's too dangerous."

Even hearing it from his dad made him want to reflexively spin a lie just to make the angry, accusatory tone go away.

"I… I was…"

"You were what? You're gone all the time, you never tell me where, you flake out, and then you show back up hurt. Are you dealing drugs? Your dad would kill you!"

"What? No!"

"Is there another girl? Does she live in the South End? Is that why you were over there so late? Tell me the truth, Will!"

"Whoa, Dad! Time out!" Will yelped.

Oliver smiled serenely. "You know, it's been a while since I was in my early 20s, but most of my 'discussions' ended with girls ended with yelling. Although, I'd like to think you're not as big a jerk as I was in my 20s. But you gotta know this is going to be emotional."

"Can't I just tell her I was patrolling with you and you're Green Arrow?" Will asked. "And, yeah, I got hurt but Barry and Cisco got me out of there."

Oliver shook his head. "First of all, you don't have permission to give out Barry and Cisco's identities so don't forget that. Secondly, yes, you can tell her about me _if_ you need to. But remember that this lifestyle, it's a choice that can destroy relationships. She might walk away. She has the _right_ to walk away."

Will's stomach dipped at the thought. He'd been head over heels for Tyler since he was fourteen years old. "Tyler would never leave me. She loves me."

"She loves _you_. She never signed on for Speed Warper and doesn't even know he exists."

"You really think she'd do that?"

Oliver shrugged. "I've had friends walk away. My friend, my _best_ friend, called me a murderer and said he hated me when he found out. Quentin Lance and Laurel, Black Canary, both tried to get me thrown in jail, repeatedly. Your Aunt Thea didn't talk to me for a week. Your mom moved you to a whole other city. You gave me the cold shoulder the first six months you were here. Not everybody wants to be a part of this life. Other people react badly but then come around. You never know. But you have to give her the chance to decide?"

Will nodded slowly and then smirked. "Does this mean you'll let me go back on patrol?"

Oliver shuddered and picked up Will's empty soup bowl from early. "I'm not ready for that discussion yet. I'm currently having fantasies of changing your name to Bubble Boy and baby proofing the whole city."

"Ugh… Don't make me laugh," Will whined pitifully.

The actual conversation with Tyler was no laughing matter.

They sat on Will's bed, the door closed. That wasn't usually allowed, but maybe his dad figured the extra privacy was worth it to avoid potentially hearing his son get dumped. There was, however, a cooling bowl of homemade chili cooling on the nightstand, a visual reminder that Oliver was still nearby.

It was completely untouched. Will couldn't think about eating or anything else. Nothing mattered as he sat, leg propped on a pillow in front of him, waiting for Tyler to say something. Anything.

"So… you're a masked vigilante?" she asked slowly, clearly still trying to wrap her head around the rapid-fire explanation Will had spewed out at hurricane force.

"Right."

"And you run around the city at night helping people—trying to help people."

"Uh-huh."

"And you got hurt doing this," she said, looking at his air boot.

"Yeah.."

"Even though you told me it was a mugging."

Will cringed. He'd known it was stupid out the time but it was even dumber now. "Yeah."

Tyler shifted away from Will, pulling her legs in, one knee bent. She rested her chin on her knee, studying the rip there for a long moment before looking back at Will.

"Were you that guy running around campus our freshman year?"

"…yeah."

Tyler closed her eyes and kept them that way. The silence was deafening as Will's soft answered faded away.

"So not only did you lie to me two weeks ago, you've been lying to me for years."

Will didn't say anything. What could he say? She was right. He was wrong. There was no defense.

"Would you have told me if you hadn't gotten hurt?"

Will hated how small Tyler's voice sounded. How vulnerable and confused. One of the things he loved about her was her confidence and self-assuredness and he'd chipped away at that.

"Eventually."

They sat in silence.

Finally, Tyler looked up. "I don't know what you want me to say, Will."

"You don't have to say anything. I just thought you should know."

Tyler blinked wide as though he'd slapped her and just as quickly her face crumpled, tears sliding down her face. Her breath hitched, breaking his heart a little with each sniffle. "No, Will. You didn't."

Will shifted his way, reached out to put a comforting hand on her shoulder but she jerked away from the touch.

"Don't."

Will raised his hand in surrender, doing no more than handing her Kleenex from the box on his nightstand, respecting her right to how she felt.

"I don't understand _why_ you felt the need to lie. I've _always_ supported you. When you decided to do Nightlight and stayed out 'til dawn, I was there right beside you. When you wanted to do Weiss Gals with the freshies, I was your demo volunteer every session. When you started up Pappy Cares, I helped you clean puke out of the back of the van. I've always had your back. _Always._ Why didn't you trust me with this?"

Will stared at her, speechless, wishing the right words would come up. And she watched him back. Not hysterical, which might have made this easier to deal with. But so damn dignified. And hurt.

"What hurts the most is I've been planning my life with you— _one_ life, Will—while you've been busy building this whole secret double life." She crumpled her tissues and slid off the bed. "And I don't know—I don't know where I fit into the part you hid from me. Would there—would there still be an us?"

Will jumped up and balanced on his boot the best he could, grabbing Tyler's hand. "Of course! There will always be an us! I love you, Tyler Rose…"

She squeezed his hand before pulling free and walked out of his room, the door quietly closing behind her, muted by the echo of the words left unsaid.

 _Not as much as I love you._


	9. Chapter 9

Will might've been housebound and quasi-helpless before but that was nothing in comparison to how pathetic and needy he could be when he really put his mind to it. After his blow out with Tyler, he wanted all the soup and all the Jello and all the orange juice and all the popsicles.

That seemed to suit Oliver fine, allowing him to ratchet his guilt and parental fear-induced smothering up to eleven. But fatherly freakout and paternal sympathy only went so far. When his dad suggested, then recommended, then finally ordered him to shower and find somewhere to be other than the living room couch, air boot and all, Will knew he was probably pushing it.

He couldn't help it, though. Tyler was his… Tyler. She was the one. They'd met when they were fourteen. Started dating when they were fifteen after he'd kinda tricked his dad into taking the to Chicago for the weekend. She was the only girl he'd ever truly been interested in. The only girl he'd ever dated. The only girl he'd ever slept with. She was supposed to be the only girl he ever everything-ed with.

And now she wasn't talking to him. Or answering his calls. Or acknowledging his texts. The one time he'd convinced his dad to drive him over to her house, her dad had answered the door.

 _I'm not sure what you did to upset her like this, Will, but she needs a little time and space._

 _Without you in it_ being the unspoken part of that sentiment.

Which sent Will right back to the living room sofa.

Part of the reason Will was sulking was he simply wasn't sure of his next move. He and his dad were currently getting along, but that would change the minute Will made a serious push to get back to training and on patrol. Oliver's bad side was not a place he wanted to be and he wasn't sure he could handle both his dad and Tyler being mad at him at the same time. Not that the whole superhero thing was a deal breaker for Tyler. She didn't really care whether he was a superhero or not—she'd been right in saying she always supported whatever he did—but he wasn't so oblivious as to not realize that starting again before they worked things out would be the death knell for their relationship.

How much was he willing to give up for his drive to help?

A few more days passed and Will decided stewing in his own miserable juices would get him nowhere. He had to put his big boy pants on and fix this. It was time to play his ace in the hole. He arranged a delivery order and hoped for the best.

The next day, he was pleased but not completely surprised when his cell phone rang.

 _Tyler Rose Calling._

He tapped to activate the call. "Hey."

A short silence and then, "I'm still mad at you."

"I know. I just wanted you to know I was still thinking of you."

"You're playing dirty pool, William David."

"So you like them?" Will asked.

"I love them," she said. "I can't believe you paid for the overnight shipping to get them here all the way from Tyler, Texas."

Tyler's family was originally from East Texas. They'd moved to Star City not long before Tyler's birth. But her mother never forgot about Tyler roses. The town was so proud of its flowers it deemed itself 'The Rose Garden of America' and had pageants, contests, and the whole shebang to celebrate the spring bloom. Every year, their family back home would ship roses to Tyler, one for every year of her age, to remind her that she was loved and being thought of on her special day, even when she was in college.

"I remembered they always make you smile and I feel like I haven't done enough of that lately."

"Well, thank you."

"My pleasure."

The small talk died, leaving uncomfortable silence, the kind of awkwardness they hadn't experienced in years.

Will cleared his throat. "If it's… if I'm not overstepping my bounds, would it be okay if I came to see you?"

Tyler sighed. "I dunno…"

"It's been a month. We've never gone that long without seeing each other. Even before we were dating. I miss you, Tyler Rose."

The line was silent so long he nearly pulled it away to look at the display, to make sure she hadn't hung up.

Then she said it.

"Not as much as I miss you, William David."

Will let out a relieved huff of air. "Does this mean I can come over?"

"Yes," Tyler said. "But bring me chocolate. And that cream soda they only sell by your place. And some of your dad's chili!"

Will silently whooped in celebration. He'd bring her the damned moon if that was what she wanted.

When Will showed up, Tyler's dad actually let him in the house, although not with the warm, friendly smile he usually bestowed.

Will and Tyler settled in the den, door pulled, but not shut. Tyler tucked in on one end of the couch, far from him, but she was wearing one of his hoodies, which he took as a good sign. The TV was on a low drone, some kind of teen drama flitting across the screen. They both sat and pretended to be vaguely interested, even though Will had never seen the show before.

"I'm going to give up being a vigilante," he blurted when the show faded to commercial break.

Tyler carefully set down her bowl of chili on the coffee table next to the chocolates he'd brought and turned to tuck her knees up on the couch, her body facing Will. "Because you actually want to or because you think it's what I want you to do?"

"Because I want to be with you and you don't want to live with someone who has a bunch of secrets. Wearing a mask, that guarantees a lifetime of secrets."

Tyler wrapped her arms around her middle, hugging herself, and shook her head. "Don't give up something you really want for me. I don't want you to be wondering 'what if' twenty years from now and resenting me for it."

"I would never resent you. I'm not doing it to make you happy. Well, not just to make you happy. I'm doing it so that there's still an 'us' twenty years from now. That's the thing I can't live without."

She studied him for a moment before looking away to the chili and the chocolates and then back. "It… it just feels so sudden. You deciding that being honest with me is more important than this thing you've wanted for years. I don't… I don't understand. I need you to tell me what changed."

"The last time we talked you talked about me being able to trust you." Will bit the inside of his cheek, his stomach fluttering as he considered the seriousness of what he was about to do. There would be no takebacksies. "I want to tell you something. But I have to be able to trust that you won't tell anybody else. Ever."

Tyler blinked at him, her eyes full of concern before shifting to resolve. "Alright. Whatever it is, it goes with me to my grave."

Will shuddered. "Many, many, _many_ decades from now."

Tyler frowned, confused. "Hopefully... What did you want to tell me?"

A big breath. "You wanted know what changed my mind… It was my dad's experiences as the Green Arrow."

Tyler's eyes grew big and her eyebrows shot up nearly to her hairline. "His… Your dad's the Green Arrow? Seriously? That doesn't-How long have you known that?"

"Since I was kidnapped about a year before my mom was murdered by the Throwing Star Killer."

Tyler's eyes furrowed. "Wait. Your mom died in a car accident."

Will nodded. "That was the official story since Oliver Queen is just supposed to be Oliver Queen. But in reality, he was targeted by Prometheus aka the Throwing Star Killer who eventually murder my mom and my dad's entire team."

Tyler gaped like a fish. He could see her brain spinning furiously, trying to process but no words were coming out.

Will shrugged ruefully. "You wanted the truth."

Be careful what you wish for, huh?" she chuckled mirthlessly.

He watched her, trying to find any indication of how she was going to take this. "I would have told you sooner, but it wasn't my secret to tell.

She nodded.

"Yeah, that part I get." She gave a small laugh. "I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I've known the Green Arrow most of my life and didn't even know it."

"Does it change the way you see him?"

Tyler tilted her head, her brow crinkling just a hint as she thought. "Not really. He was always really protective of you and worked hard to do right by the city. If anything, it makes him cooler."

"Does Speed Warper change how you see me?" Will asked softly.

She turned and looked him in the eye. "I'm not mad at you because you're out running around the city. I'm mad because you not only didn't tell me, but you intentionally and repeatedly lied to me about it."

"And if I promise never to lie to you about it again, could you find it in you to forgive me? I can't stand it when you're mad at me. It makes me feel awful knowing I did something to hurt you."

"I can't stand being mad at you." She dropped her chin down to her drawn up knees. "Please don't lie to me again. Not about something this big."

"I won't. I swear." He put one hand out, pinky extended. "I love you, Tyler Rose."

She grinned and hooked pinkies with him. "Not as much as I love you, William David."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Will made good on his word and used his EMT certification to join Star City's paramedic fleet. A solid move in his opinion. The work was fulfilling and exciting, all the adrenaline with only a quarter of the danger.

His first few months as a probie flew by with the guys training and razzing him in equal measure. His ability to think quickly on his feet and a lifetime of his dad's workout routines helped him easily meet and surpass the training expectations and his practice at blending in helped him bond with his squad mates who'd had a field day when they'd realized the Queen in Clayton-Queen referred to his father, the mayor. The firehouse's running joke was a _Dear Mayor Queen_ wish list they kept near the dartboards. It detailed all of things their firehouse desperately needed to ensure the mayor's son was safe and comfortable. It was completely ridiculous ( _a Jacuzzi, an indoor ski slope, a live-in butler_ ) and there seemed to be a competition between the firefighters and the paramedics to see who could come up with the most outlandish requests. Since the guys all seemed to understand he could never actually take the list to his dad, Will took it in good humor, even adding to it once or twice ( _a sushi chef on Fridays, a full-time sandwich artist_ ).

Overall, he liked his crew. The eclectic mix of personalities combined with their calls to make every shift entertaining. On Will's shift there was Judd, an older black guy around the same age as Will's dad, who could always tell you the line ups for whatever local team was playing that day and their chances of winning _(The Star City Stars have a better chance of winning the lottery than a pennant_ ) _,_ Cooper, a wiry, Hispanic guy who liked to crack jokes and could speak three languages, none of which were Spanish, and Gigli, pronounced like the movie he always insisted, although Will didn't know what movie he was talking about. Not that it mattered. As far as everyone else was concerned it was 'jiggly' which got shortened to Jig.

Judd and Cooper rode ambo together, as they had for over ten years, which paired Will with Jig, which for some unknown reason made the old timers yell 'Gettin' jiggy with it' and do a weird shoulder bounce dance whenever they came on duty during Will's first month. Will eventually googled it and found out it was from a pop-rap song that was wildly popular a few years before he was born. The 2000s had apparently been a weird, neon-colored decade. Jig was a good partner and an even better medic, able to triage a patient at fifty yards. Will learned something every time they rolled out together.

Outside of work, Will was pleased to realize that working full-time meant he could afford a place to stay without his dad bankrolling it. After his third pay check, he moved into a reasonably priced one-bedroom apartment a few blocks away from the firehouse. It wasn't nearly as nice as his dad's loft, but he didn't have to worry about coming home and finding the place ransacked either. And having his own place meant Tyler came over as much as she possibly could without officially moving in and incurring the wrath of her overprotective and staunchly Catholic parents who for whatever reason were willing to ignore occasional overnight stays but would not condone official unwed cohabitation.

Regardless, life with SCFD was good. Tyler was relieved he was no longer so secretive and came home in one whole, unbruised piece and more than once she'd taken the opportunity to show him how much she appreciated a man in uniform.

"Will, are you happy?" she asked after one such occasion, her slim fingers running down his bare torso as they lounged in his bed.

"Of course." He lazily pulled her hand up to his mouth to kiss her knuckles. "You make me happy every day and in every way."

She smiled. "Flattery will get you everywhere, mister."

Tyler hummed and shuffled a bit until she was tucked snug next to him, her head resting on his chest. "I meant are you happy with what you're doing? As an EMT. You've always wanted to keep people safe, but I know this isn't exactly how you imagined it. Do you miss it? Being the other guy?"

Will didn't hesitate. "Nope. I have what matters most to me. There's nothing to miss."

The lie came easily. Maybe because there was a grain of truth in it. Will _did_ feel useful, like he was doing the city some good.

And if he felt a little wistful every time they pulled up just in time to see his dad's trademark green suit dart around a corner as they rushed to tend to a victim or when they arrived to find a bad guy pinned to a wall by a green arrow, well, that was just nostalgia.

 _Go, Dad. Go._

Harder to ignore, though, was the niggling guilt he felt when they arrived at a scene littered with bullets to find some innocent bystander hurt.

 _This kid's lucky. A few centimeters to the left and this bullet would have killed him._

Or Speed Warper could've moved it a few inches to the right and it would've missed the kid all together.

Will worked hard to keep his mind blank from those thoughts. After all, he was still helping. And he'd made a promise.

 _A promise made should be a promise kept._

"Alright, CQ. You ready?" Jig asked as they strapped in.

"Always."

They were being dispatched for a collapsed patient, male, unknown age, unknown cause.

Pulling out of the firehouse bay, Jig drove as Will navigated, controlling the lights and sirens as they went, every kid's dream. The city whipped by as they raced towards their destination.

"Turn left here," Will instructed.

They pulled onto the street, looking around as they eased down the street, siren silent but lights still flashing. It was a row of mostly abandoned houses, years of wear and tear apparent on their facades, paint chipped and worn, but a few were clearly still occupied. Jig pulled the ambo to a stop, the powerful engine letting out a heavy breath as he engaged the air brake and clicked the two-way strapped to his shoulder.

"Dispatch, this is Star 5-1. We're on-site. No sign of a patient or any bystanders. Do you have an exact address?"

Static burst followed by a muffled voice. "Standby Star 5-1. We'll attempt to get a 20 on the caller."

Will climbed out and headed to the back of the rig to grab his go bag and pull the gurney if needed, all the while gauging in his surroundings. It was mid-day but this particular area was preternaturally quiet, as though the usual inhabitants had some sense of foreboding and were bunkering down to see how it played out. His one patrol with his dad may have been a disaster, but he remembered this distinctive feeling.

"Keep your head on a swivel," Jig called back to him, obviously sharing the gut feeling. "This ain't the best area."

Will nodded, still trying to pin what exactly had been goosing his neck hairs since he climbed out of the rig.

It wasn't until the guy stepped into the clearing that Will figured it out.

Ambush.

"Gimme the fuckin' drugs or blow your fuckin' head off," the man yelled.

He was beyond skinny, the kind of skeletal that only came from being too strung out to care about eating. He had stringy, scraggly, dirty blonde hair. His bloodshot green eyes nearly engulfed his gaunt face and Will could see his constricted pupils even at this distance. He was sky-high and waving a huge gun in twitching hands, the barrel aimed straight at Will.

"Hey, man, take it easy," Jig said calmly, hands raised in surrender. "Nobody has to get hurt. Just take what you need and go."

Will flinched as Twitchy darted towards him, but forced himself to remain completely still as the guy pulled the strap of the go bag off Will's shoulder before retreating a few steps and dropping it to the ground. Twitchy's eyes darted between Will, Jig, and the unzipped bag. He pawed frantically through the contents, scanning the labels, stuffing the ones he wanted into the pockets of his ripped coat, flinging aside the ones he didn't. Will couldn't help but grimace as vial after vial of extremely expensive, lifesaving drugs shattered as they were tossed aside carelessly.

"Hey man, I'm not trying to stop you but we use that medicine to stop strokes in old people and help asthmatic kids breathe," Will said. "Maybe if you told me exactly what you're looking for, we can get that for you and you can leave the rest of it so people don't die."

Twitchy looked up and a brief moment of irritation flashed across his face before being replaced by uncertainty, followed by shaky agreement. "I want all your oxy."

"We don't carry oxy."

"Bullshit."

"No bullshit," Jig said. "Our job is to get people to the hospital alive. Our meds cover Airway, Breathing, Circulation, Deadly bleeding, and Defibrilation. Pain relief is a distant sixth."

The agitation creeped back into Twitchy's face. "You have to have something. You guys help, like, pregnant ladies have babies and shit. You can't tell me you don't give them somethin' for that."

"We have morphine," Will suggested, not bothering to point out that they did their level best to keep from delivering babies in the back of the rig and most of their drugs could be fatal to fetuses.

"Yeah, gimme that."

Will nodded and turned to climb into the rig.

"Wait!" Twitchy barked. "You could have anything in there. I'll go."

Will shrugged. "Fine."

He dared a glance at Jig and could tell his partner was thinking the same thing. As soon as Twitchy was inside, they could close and lock the doors behind him. There was no way out without the key and the metal would stop any bullets he might fire.

But the drug haze must've lifted just enough for Twitchy to see the flaw in his plan. "Nah. No way, man. I'm not stupid. You're not trapping me in there."

He renewed his aim at Will, staring him down, and barked at Jig. "You. You go get it."

Before Jig could move, his radio crackled to life.

"Star 5-1, what's your 20?"

Both he and Will froze. Help was just a click away, but that click could set this guy off.

"Don't answer that," Twitchy hissed.

"If we don't answer a hail, they'll send the cops," Will pointed out. "We already told them we couldn't find a patient. If we don't answer they're going to assume something's wrong."

"Star 5-1, I repeat, what's your 20?"

Twitchy scrubbed at his hair, agitation spazzing through his whole demeanor.

"Fuck. Okay. You, you get the meds," he demanded, pointing his gun at Jig. Then he swung it back to Will. "And you, you answer whoever that is."

"Okay, fine," Jig said and slowly crossed over to the back of the open rig.

"Star 5-1, we need your 20 ASAP," the dispatcher demanded more urgently.

Will carefully reached up to click his two way, his mind racing. "Uh... Yeah, Dispatch, this is Star 5-1. We're Code 30, over."

 _We need help. EMERGENCY!_

"10-4, Star 5-1. That's a 10-31."

 _Help is on the way._

Twitchy's eyes flared wide and his lips peeled back from lips. "Nah, man! I know the fuckin' codes, you fucker!"

It took Will a moment to realize that the next few seconds weren't time slowing down the way most people described terrifying events. Instead, it was his powers flaring at the sound of the first bullet firing out of the barrel, followed by a second, third, fourth, fifth, and sixth. It wasn't until both Jig and Twitchy gasped and swore that Will realized what he'd done.

His hand was still extended and the bullets are floating, rotating slowly in the air, headed towards his chest at a glacial speed. A flick of his hand sent them plonking to the ground, tinkling like harmless pennies.

"What the fuck?" Twitchy backed away, completely stunned, then frightened and turned to run. Something snapped in Will and he roared before executing a flying tackle that would've made any NFL defensive lineman proud. He and Twitchy thudded to the ground, gravel scratching under their impact. They were quickly joined by Jig. Together, they pinned Twitchy and used medical restraints to hog tie him.

"Star 5-1, 10-31 in T-minus 2. Confirm your 106."

 _Are you okay?_

Will huffed and reached for his two-way even as he kept a knee in Twitchy's back. "Star 5-1. We're 10-4. We'll be waiting for that 10-31."

As they waited, the adrenaline ebbed and Will slumped, completely drained from the sudden effort, not having used his powers in months. He felt simultaneously ravenous and sick to his stomach.

"You okay, CQ?" Jig asked, studying him with a carefully blank look.

He nodded, swallowing hard against the nausea. He'd be fine.

When the cops finally showed up, Twitchy told everyone who'd listen (and even those who wouldn't) that Will had made bullets freeze in the air. The cops looked at Will and Jig with raised eyebrows.

"Guys, I don't know what's he's hopped up on, but it's really strong," Jig covered. "He was shooting at us and it's only pure luck he didn't manage to hit anything. My partner and I definitely dodged a bullet, but not literally."

The cops, used to much weirder things in Star City, nodded and loaded Twitchy into the back of their squad car with him ranting the whole time about the guy who could slow speeding bullets.

Once all the reports were filled out, Jig and Will climbed back into their rig. Will clicked off the lights that had been flashing the entire time and they both stared out the windshield carefully not making eye contact with each other. Will sat tense, waiting for the questions. But they never came. Instead, Jig shifted the transmission into gear and pulled away.

"Let's take it in."

Will nodded silently in agreement, more than ready to put this whole thing in the literal rear view.

As the houses faded from view, Will caught the barest glimpse of green leather in the side mirror.

Back at the house, the fire and police chief were both on hand and equally freaking out. The raw anger of having two medics held up combined with the overwhelming fear of the mayor's son nearly being murdered on their watch and they were tripping over themselves to make sure Will and Jig were really okay. In an abundance of caution, they were immediately sent off duty, even though their shift technically still had nearly twenty-four hours left.

Will, dressed in his street clothes, pulled his duffle strap over his head and settled it on his shoulders. He was supposed to go home, but he couldn't bring himself to do it just yet. Instead, he stood just outside the firehouse doors waiting on Jig to exit.

But once he did, Will didn't know what to say.

Jig saw him waiting and paused for a brief moment before heading in the opposite direction. "I'll see you next shift, CQ."

Will nodded dumbly and headed home to Tyler more unsure than he'd been in years.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Will remembered pestering his dad, constantly trying to guess and confirm his guesses about the secret identities of the superheroes he knew his dad knew. It kept his kid imagination and curiosity in overdrive, the perfect mystery always right in front of him. Oliver was always patient, but forever steadfast in his refusal to tell. Will had pouted playfully but secretly considered that stubbornness a little mean, to have that kind of information and refuse to share with his only son who would never tell in a million years.

Now, Will could finally see the truth that his dad had known all along.

It was scary to have someone find out before he was ready for them to know, for someone to have this kind of power over him. He felt vulnerable… _exposed._ And all he could do was wait and see how Jig reacted, hoping for the best but bracing for the worst. Would he have to leave SFCD? Would this boil over on his dad? Tyler? It wasn't fair that a part of himself that he'd intentionally hidden had the power to destroy the life he'd carefully built for Tyler and himself.

He sighed forlornly. "I don't know what to do, Ty."

He and Tyler were ensconced in a nest of blankets of his bed, had been since he'd gotten home two days ago, more or less. Tyler got up for food runs and to field worried calls from their parents, but otherwise simply let him be, lending her quiet support as he tried to weather the storm of emotions. And he wasn't too proud to admit that was what it was.

He'd woken up more than once, gasping, sweaty, heart pounding, visions of what might've happened if his powers hadn't flared when they did. Nightmares of being paralyzed, his body cruelly capable of controlling the motions of others, but not of itself. Or worse, killed. Tyler, inconsolable, stunned by his loss in a career that should have been safer. And his dad, ever the stoic, letting the grief consume him.

"Babe, I know it's scary, but I think you're working yourself up over nothing. Jig's your friend. He wouldn't tell anybody, would he?"

Will shrugged. "Yeah, but people can be weird about finding out their friends are metas. The only ones they ever hear about are the violent ones on the news or the ones who decide to be vigilantes. They don't know about the hundreds or thousands who're just living their lives like everybody else."

"But Jig has known you for months. He knows you haven't been using your powers. He watches you keep the city safe _legally_ four days a week."

"The guy that murdered my mom was the District Attorney by day and the Throwing Star Killer by night. _My dad_ is the mayor by day and the Green Arrow by night. Oh, God. My dad…" Will groans.

"What?" Tyler asked. "You know he'll support you no matter what."

"Exactly. Every election somebody campaigns on an anti-meta crusade. People think my dad's just being really open-minded, but now it'll look like he's known about this my whole life and has been lying to the public and using his office to make my life easier."

"Your dad's tough and in more ways than anybody in this city knows. I don't even have to ask him to know he'd gladly go to bat over this for you no matter how much criticism and bad press it gets him."

"I know. But he shouldn't have to…"

"And you shouldn't have to hide being a meta," Tyler answered as she ran her fingers through his hair.

They sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

"You're a good man, Will. I think you have to trust your friends to know that, too."

Will waited what seemed like forever to be cleared to go back on duty, but once he got there, he could barely stand the tension.

He was sitting on the station's beat up (or well-loved, depending on who you asked) couch, pretending to watch Shark Week on the fire house's big screen TV when Jig dropped down next to him. Judd, Cooper, and the fire rescue crew were all out on a highway wreck, three car pile-up. Jig and Will were on light duty so they'd only be called in if it really got out of hand.

"So…" Jig started.

Will looked at him expectant and unsure.

"I keep trying to convince myself it was the stress of the situation, you know, but I'm pretty sure that wasn't it," Jig said. "You're meta, aren't you?"

Will worked hard to keep his breathing even and his voice calm. "You got a problem with metas?"

Jig scrunched his nose before shaking his head. "Nah. When I was a kid, I would've given my left nut to be a meta, to have powers like Vibe and Gypsy. It took me years to forgive my parents for waiting so long to move to Central City."

Will laughed, equal parts relief and bitterness. "I know the feeling, but it's not all it's cracked up to be."

Jig hummed and they watched a hammerhead shark swim across the TV screen. It chased a squid in a cat-and-mouse chase for several zig zagging yards only to get a spray of ink in its face for its trouble. The narrator droned that the hammerhead tended to prefer more challenging prey such as octopi, hard-shelled crustaceans, and sting rays. Will thought it sounded like a lot of work for a meal that couldn't have amounted to more than a few bites for such a large fish.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Will nodded, still cautious, but not as afraid as he'd been earlier.

"Why are you hiding out in a firehouse? I mean, I know people say first responders are every day heroes, but you could be the real deal with your face on kids' sheets and underwear." Jig paused and winced slightly. "In a non-creepy way, I mean."

Will thought for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek, weighing his thoughts carefully. "Can you keep a secret?"

"You mean bigger than the one I've been sitting on all week?"

Will chuckled in concession. "I actually tried. You know, to go out there and make a difference. My… I know some vigilantes. Convinced one to take me out on patrol."

Jig's eyebrows shot up. "Seriously?"

"Don't look so impressed. I got my ass completely handed to me," Will said with a rueful grin. "Concussion, cracked ribs, sprained ankle."

Jig gave a low whistle.

"Yeah. And I couldn't tell anybody how it happened. That was the hardest part. The constant lying and sneaking around. My girlfriend, we've been dating since we were 15. She was convinced I was cheating on her, almost broke up with me."

"Does she know now?"

Will nodded. "About my powers, yeah, but we both agreed I would quit the double life and work for SCFD. Save lives the safe way."

That seemed to be enough for Jig and they both drifted into silence, watching the predators swimming across the tv screen.

"Doesn't it bother you though? I mean, I know you're helping. I like this job _because_ we're helping," Jig said. "But I can't help thinking… this has gotta feel like fighting with one hand tied behind your back."

Will shrugged. "It _is_ frustrating… but when push came to shove, the people who care about me, who worry about me every day… I couldn't put them through the stress of being connected to a superhero, wondering if I'm coming home that night, if today would be the day I met my match. It wasn't fair."

Jig nodded slowly, lips pressed in a tight line. "I can understand that. My wife feels that way and I'm not even a crimefighter. I just quick patch whoever needs it and get them to the real doctors…."

"What we do is important," Will argued, rolling his eyes at the long-running, quasi-friendly argument of medics vs ER docs.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. But what I was saying… that hop head that jumped us freaked her right the hell out. She would never ask me to quit, but I know she worries."

"Tyler didn't ask me to quit. In fact, she didn't want me to quit if I was only doing it for her. I quit so she could sleep at night and because being with her is more important than being on kids' underwear, in a non-creepy way, of course."

Jig laughed.

"Well, just so you know… however you decide to help this city," he said quietly. "I'll always have your back. I've been watching you work for months now. Long enough to know you're a good person no matter what uniform you're wearing."

Will mumbled a soft thanks and stared straight ahead at the TV, blinking hard, refusing to let his eyes tear up. "That means a lot to me."

Jig grunted and cleared his throat, clearly ready to push past the sentimentality that was trying to build up, and pointed at the TV. "A cow shark? They're making that up, right? Like sharknados or ghoulpires?"

But before Will could really get a look at the shark, the show broke to a commercial for the local news which promised an update on the rash of violent muggings plaguing the city.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Star City had never been a particularly peaceable city. When he'd first had to move in with his dad, Will had hated how dark and menacing it felt compared to the bright, zaniness of Central City. Eventually, he'd grown to love Star City as his adopted home, warts and all, but the city never ceased to harbor pockets of crime and vicious criminals no matter how hard his dad fought as both its daytime leader and its nighttime guardian. No Star Citizen would be shocked at the thought of crime or even unduly surprised to find themselves a crime victim.

But this most recent gang to pop up was particularly brutal, targeting families, particularly single parents with young kids.

 _"Police believe the gang is targeting single parents who are more likely to be distracted by their children and will comply with muggers for the safety of their children,"_ the newscaster on KSTAR5 reported, her voice containing just the right amount of gravitas and professional sympathy.

"Not that compliance actually helps," Will muttered darkly at the TV. "I've answered three calls about this already."

"That's awful, babe. I'm sorry you're having to see that. But at least you get to comfort them when they need it the most," Tyler assured him from where she was snuggled into his side on their couch.

"Lot of good that does," Will sulks, refusing to be soothed so easily. "These guys are completely brutal. Sadistic. A bunch of… animals! No, actually w _orse_ than animals, because animals only attack for survival. These… _jerks_ are stabbing people and breaking bones over smartphones and wallets."

"That's awful," Tyler whispered, nuzzling further into Will's side, her presence steadying even in the vexing face of his self-imposed helplessness.

 _"Star General has already treated seven separate families including five women, two men, and eleven children. They are all reported to be in good spirits following their ordeal. Star City PD recommends that if accosted, comply with all demands, do not allow yourself or your children to be transported anywhere, and call 911 as soon as poss—"_

Will growls in frustration, flipping the channel to a more benign baseball game and tossing the remote onto the coffee table.

"Don't worry," Tyler said, rubbing her hand across his chest soothingly and pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. "Your dad'll get 'em soon."

"I know. I just—" Will sighed.

"You wish you could help."

"No. Well, yeah, but no. I promised you I wouldn't do that anymore."

Tyler sat up and turned to kneel on the couch facing Will. "And I support your decision, but I told you that you didn't have to promise me that. The problem was never the crime-fighting. It was the lying. That's what I can't— _won't_ —deal with. If you _really_ want to help your dad, _do it._ You have my blessing."

She made a mocking gesture that Will doubted was recognized by the papacy. "I just want you to be happy."

"Well, thank you for your blessing. And your blasphemy."

Tyler snorted and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, because _that's_ the biggest rule I'm breaking in the Good Catholic Handbook…"

Will hummed and tugged her arm, pulling her until she was straddling his lap. "Can I make a suggestion on the next rule we break? Or break again."

Tyler leaned in close, her lips only a breath away from his. "I think my mama warned me about boys like you."

_BowOut_BowOut_

It may have been suggested in a playful manner, but Tyler's words stuck with Will, pressing him harder as he dealt with family eight, a deeply rattled mother and her shocked-silent son. A kid witnessing violence so gratuitous that he was rendered speechless struck a particularly raw nerve in Will. Family nine hit even harder, a father who'd gotten stabbed trying to defend his son despite the SCPD advice. Will couldn't fault him though. There was no limit to what Oliver would have done in the same situation to keep Will safe. The more he saw everyday average parents who had no powers risking life, limb, and personal property to keep their kids safe the worse he felt sitting on the sidelines.

Finally, he simply couldn't sit idly anymore.

He found himself pulling a big box out of the closet. One he'd hidden far back and sworn never to touch again.

Carefully pulling the lid off, he stared at the splash of steel gray, dark blue, and white. The smell of leather and dust wafted up. He touched it reverently. He'd never even worn the thing. His one outing had been a bust and he'd benched himself before Cisco could even deliver the suit he'd created based on the bio-feedback from that night. Will wasn't even sure his dad knew Will had a suit.

He carried the box into the living room, sat on the couch, and pulled the suit into his lap, fingering all the minute details Cisco had made. Just holding it was enough to send both adrenaline and terror bolting through his veins. He'd fallen off the bike and never gotten back on. He wanted to help, but what if he got hurt again?

He went back and forth, arguing in his own head, both for and against it until he heard soft footsteps approach him from behind.

"I'm going to help my dad," Will said as Tyler rounded the sofa to sit next to him.

She sat and pulled her knees up to her chest, tucking them under the hem of Will's navy blue PWU sweatshirt she'd been sleeping in. Her lips tilted in a smirk.

"Finally. I thought you were going to drive yourself insane trying to stay out of it."

Will raised a brow. "You wanted me to do it."

"I keep telling you. All I ever wanted you to do is what _you_ want to do. Whatever makes you happy, babe."

Will hummed. "You know, this is exactly how I found my dad wanted to keep being the Green Arrow. There was a meta kidnapping firstborn sons. Freaked him out, you know, since I was his first born. He wanted to do something, but he'd promised me he was done being a vigilante."

"When was this?"

"When I first came to Star City, a few months after my mom died." Will shook his head. It was hard to believe nearly a decade and a half had passed. "I was so terrified that he would go out there and get killed and I'd be all alone. You're handling this so much better than I did."

Tyler rolled her eyes and pinched him playfully. "Well, I like to think that I have better emotional maturity than a ten-year-old boy, so…"

Will laughed ad rubbed his arm. "I just mean... you're so calm about all this. Not making any demands or making me feel bad or anything."

"Will. You said it yourself. You were a ten-year-old boy who'd just lost his mother and was scared to death of losing his father." She reached out and ran a finger across the leather. "And just like your dad, you grew up to be a man that wants to make sure no one else loses their mom or dad to the baddies out there and that your city is safe for everyone. I understand and I'm proud of you."

Unable to resist, Will kissed her. "I love you, Tyler Rose."

"Not as much as I love you, William David."

_BowOut_ BowOut_

"I'm ready."

Oliver looked up from where he was securing his knee braces before putting on the pants to his Arrow suit. "What?"

Will dropped his duffle bag onto the bench next to his dad. "I'm ready to go back out."

Oliver pulled on his pants and stood. He thought for a long, silent moment before speaking.

"Why? You're out. You got out for a perfectly good reason. You have your job. Tyler. You guys are probably getting married in a few years, maybe have kids. It's perfect. Why risk that?"

"Why did you?" Will pressed, insistent. "You were retired out in Ivy Town. Why'd you come back to Star City?"

Oliver sighed. "Because my city needed me and I'm kinda certifiable. But you're smarter than me, Will. Better."

"And yet, I'm letting you fight alone."

Oliver stared at him, looking for something. The intensity of his stare made Will want to squirm out of habit but he refused, meeting his dad's gaze until Oliver nodded.

"Okay."

"Okay?" Will asked. "No arguments? No trying to convince me to change my mind back?"

Oliver smiled, a mixture of fondness and resignation. "Son, you've wanted this since you were seventeen years old. Probably younger. Would I prefer you stay safe forever and ever? Yeah. But I knew you'd be back. You are your father's son. Quitting's not in your blood. Like you said, I tried to walk away. More than once. And eventually, the need to act eats away at you. Honestly, I'm surprised you lasted as long as you did. Suit up."


	13. Chapter 13

Epilogue

 _2034_

In the end, the battle that had pulled Will back in had nearly been anti-climactic. The gang that was attacking families was an out-of-town syndicate that figured if they made Star City violent enough, families would move out, property values would drop, and the police would be too underfunded to challenge them when they moved in and took over. The idea was so ridiculous Will had to wonder if they'd ever actually met a Star Citizen before enacting their so called perfect plan. Star City played and _won_ an annual round of the deadliest game of chicken possible against the worst of the worst and kept running against all odds. Regardless, those knuckle-headed idiots would have decades in Iron Heights to regret ever messing with Star City.

Speed Warper was now the city's full-time guardian and the city was now surprised whenever they happened to find green arrows rather than the more familiar blue and silver ones. Oliver still trained with William, constantly challenging him to improve his marksmanship, but was more or less retired, only coming out to sub for Will or provide back up in emergencies. But for the most part, he seemed to enjoy going back to just being the mayor and Will's dad. He needled at Will, constantly asking where his first grandchild was. Will playfully threatened to teach the kid to call him 'Old man Oliver.'

"I actually _will_ be an old man waiting on you two. It's not like you too haven't been practicing for years," Oliver grumbled as he nocked a bow during one of their weekly archery practices.

"Dad!"

Oliver arched a silver-streaked eyebrow, but didn't look away from his target, letting the arrow fly. "Are we pretending like I don't know why I was paying for you to have a private dorm room in college?"

Will blushed furiously. "Stop!"

He and Tyler had been married for just over a year, not quite newlyweds, but not quite ready for kids. But they probably would be soon. Tyler loved her job, but Will wasn't blind to the way she melted over the youngest kids at her youth center.

"Will, they're so friggin' adorable. Sometimes I just want to steal one," she'd lamented as they lay in bed.

"I don't think that's allowed, babe."

"You sure you don't have any siblings, so we can be aunt and uncle first. Like a free trial."

"Well, with my dad, you never _truly_ know. He didn't know about me for a whole decade. But as far as he knows, I'm the only one."

Tyler smirked consideringly. "Well, I did say your dad was the only one I would trade up for…"

Will made a gagging noise. "Oh gawd. Please stop. That would make you, like, my sister-mom."

Tyler nearly choked on her own laughter and gave him a contrite kiss on the cheek before snuggling to sleep.

He'd be ready whenever she was. And like his dad said, it wasn't like practicing wasn't fun in the meantime.

_BowOut_BowOut_BowOut_

The Flash was still active but it wasn't uncommon to see a bright purple streak of lightning zipping next to his fiery golden streak. Nora Allen, just out of high school, still had a while before she'd be ready to patrol yet, but she was getting pretty damned good at controlling her speed and all the powers that came with it. Nora and Will already practiced once a month just to get a feel for how their opposing powers would work together. But Barry hadn't given the green light yet and probably wouldn't for a while yet. Will definitely didn't have it in him to push it. He still geeked out a bit any time Barry asked for his help in Central City (And he always pretended to forget how badly he derped out the first time he met Supergirl...) He felt a little more even-keeled with Nora and hoped that they would eventually enjoy the same relationship Barry and Oliver had as they protected their respective cities.

In the meantime, Star City was safe. Will was slowly building his own team. Team Warper currently consisted of Tyler and Jig who basically provided him with alibis, but right now that was all he needed.

Oliver had started out trying to fulfill his own father's dying wish and now Will was carrying on Oliver's legacy.

Star City was in safekeeping.


End file.
